"Now out with what you have got to say, and be quick about it," he growled.
"I want to know who that man was, you met in the tavern in
Cedarville."
"Didn't meet any man in particular. Met half a dozen in general."
"You know the man I mean—the tall fellow, with a scar on his chin."
"Oh, that fellow? I think his name is Nolly. He's a book agent, and I promised to buy some histories from him," and Baxter pretended to yawn, as if he was not especially interested.
"You are not telling the truth, Baxter," answered Tom, undaunted by this show of nerve.
"Do you mean to say I lie, Rover? Take care, or you may be sorry for what you say!"
"You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Baxter. That man's name is no more Nolly than mine is George Washington or yours William McKinley."
"Isn't it? Then perhaps you know his real name."
"I do. His name is Arnold Baxter."